


vesuvia's finest

by lauraelas



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Dom/sub Undertones, F/F, Female Apprentice, Gender-Neutral Apprentice, Implied Sexual Content, Multi, Other, Painplay, Polyamory, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2018-12-31 17:50:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 47
Words: 16,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12137862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lauraelas/pseuds/lauraelas
Summary: A collection of oneshots and drabbles for various characters and pairings inThe Arcana.No longer being updated.





	1. all my stars are leading to you

**Author's Note:**

> most of these chapters will feature requests i receive on my [tumblr](http://www.asrawrites.tumblr.com), or my apprentice oc sandhya, just fyi!

She isn’t sure how the tradition started, only that it had.

In time, Asra began announcing his departures, instead of being in Vesuvia one day and vanishing into thin air the next.

Sandhya no longer had to hear whispers of the magician’s return in the marketplace before stumbling upon him. She would be speaking to a customer, or busying herself with work, and when she turned around, there he would be, stroking one of the stray cats who have made her shop their shelter.

Asra has become one of those stray cats himself, in a way. She has a feeling he’d laugh if she voiced such a comparison. She doesn’t.

Regardless, when Asra returns to Vesuvia, he makes his way to her. And she allows him to take up space in her little shop.

He always has stories to tell of his travels outside of the city. Sandhya sits by him as he regales her with tale after tale—of tumbling hill tops and icy cold, of nobles and street urchins, of the countless fortunes he’s told.

Before she knows it, the sky is brimming with blues and pinks, and Asra’s head is cushioned on the flesh of her knee as he tells her more about magic. By now, she’s bold enough to run her fingers through his hair, which parts for them like silk.

“What else can you teach me?” she breathes, and he smiles indulgently up at her, every time.

He teaches her without asking for pay. Or perhaps making her little shop his occasional shelter is the price for his mentorship. He’s crafty enough that Sandhya wouldn’t be surprised if this was the case.

So she learns from him, and every time, she finds herself telling him about her life. The time she spent with her mother and father; how her uncle had fallen victim to the Red Plague; her father’s suggestion that she move to Vesuvia to take over the shop, and her mother’s teary farewell.

Sandhya even tells him about the letters she trades with her family. About how lonely it had felt when she first made the move. About the life she has carved for herself, now.

“Do you wish you could move back?” Asra asks her, voice soft, once.

Sandhya does not hesitate. “I’d consider it, sometimes. I still do,” she admits. “When I… get homesick. But to be honest, I don’t really want to. Not anymore.”

She’s a private person, and yet Asra manages to glean new information from her with every visit. All he needs to do is look at her and give her that mysterious, alluring smile, and her secrets slip past her lips.

He never tells her of his past in kind. Sandhya’s picked up on it. No matter how she tries to ask, fumbling with the words, he looks at her like he  _knows_.

She lets him change the subject. He’s done the same for her, before.

But she wonders. Has he grown used to her, as she has him? Or does he know many Sandhyas on his travels? Is she merely a port for him to rest his feet?

Now that the tradition has started, though, she can’t let go of it. Every time he bids her goodbye, she looks to the door, as if he will stroll through it. Every time he returns, something inside her loosens, just a bit more.

Without fail, he’ll rest his head on the crook of her knee, and she’ll feel a sense of  _rightness_. Like coming home.

Soon, Sandhya will press a key into the magician’s hand. “I’m tired of having to get up and unlock the door,” she’ll say, having practiced the excuse countless times days before.

Asra will smile at her, something unexplained hiding behind his eyes. He’ll take the key, his hand lingering in her own. “I’ll take good care of it. I promise.”


	2. fire and the flood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spoilers for the prologue! if you aren't up to date with the game, you should skip this drabble.

“I… I love you,” they say, voice thick with emotion. Their eyes shine as bright as the sun; perhaps that is why he can’t bring himself to meet them.

Asra’s heart constricts within his chest. The words strike the very core of him. They’re like honey coming from their lips, and his throat is parched, aching. But the moment they breathed those words, he knew what he would have to do.

They take his silence to mean something else. “I have for some time,” they say quickly. Their fingers twist together in worry. “And sometimes, I think you might too? But other times it’s as if I’m dreaming it all up. You’re  _frustratingly_  hard to read.”

The corner of his mouth lifts half-heartedly at that. His apprentice notices.

“See! You’re doing it right now! You’re smiling, but I have no idea what it  _means_.” They groan and cover their face with their hands. “This was a terrible idea.”

 _It was_ , he thinks sadly.  _But not for the reasons you’re thinking of_.

Asra steps closer and gently removes their hands, so that he can see them. They meet his eyes before shifting their gaze away, a flush travelling up their throat. He doesn’t let go of their hands; he brings one up to meet his lips, instead.

They watch, wide-eyed, as he kisses their knuckles. Asra looks up at them from under his lashes. “Does this clear up the confusion?” he asks, voice soft.

“I, um,” they stammer, blinking rapidly. “It— yes, that works.”

Asra grins, despite himself. “I do. I care for you, more than anything. I’ve felt this way for some time now. But now’s not the right moment… I just need more time.”

Confusion mars his apprentice’s features, and as he turns their hand over, they open their mouth to question him. He kisses their palm before they get the chance, and looks up to watch as their eyes glaze over. As they forget.

With a heavy heart, he lets their hands go.

 _Soon_ , Asra promises them, or himself. He isn’t quite sure.  _Soon there will be no secrets. Soon we can be together._


	3. things you said that i wasn't meant to hear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by an anon over on tumblr!

His apprentice’s fingers are carding through his hair, his head resting on the flesh of their knee. Outside dusk has claimed the sky, and the bustle from the marketplace has died and become a hush.

Asra is growing used to this easy intimacy, but he knows he must leave soon. There is work to be done. For now, though, he tries to memorize this. All of it. The gentle breathing of his apprentice, the calm seeping into his bones, the feeling of something close to  _home_.

He’s sinking into sleep when a sigh sounds from above him. “You’re lucky you’ve got such soft hair, otherwise I might not have let you stay here,” his apprentice grumbles under their breath.

Asra stifles a smile. It’s something they say to him from time to time, yet in spite of the harsh words, their gaze is always fond.

He wonders what expression they’re wearing now, when they think him asleep. He entertains the thought of opening his eyes to satisfy his curiosity.

“Though I suppose you could shave your head bald now and I’d still let you in,” they continue musing, unknowing. His cheek twitches, suppressing a chortle. “But… don’t actually do that. Please.”

A deeper sigh, and the fingers in his hair regretfully cease movement. “Sometimes I wish you wouldn’t leave. That you’d stay here like this, with me, for longer.”

Asra stills, the merriment filling his chest dissipating. They’re spilling the contents of their heart, now. He shouldn’t listen, should pretend to awake… yet he strains to take in every word.

“Or maybe I could come with you,” his apprentice says, voice low and soft, “and we’d have an adventure like one in the tales you’re always telling me. I just wish I knew how you…” They trail off.

Asra wishes they would continue, but they don’t, and instead returning to stroking his hair. He stews in his thoughts as the comforting movement lulls him to sleep.

An adventure with the shopkeep, his apprentice… there are so many the places he’d want to take them, if he could. He hopes he gets the chance, one day.


	4. things you said with no space between us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon over on tumblr!
> 
> set after asra's grimoire preview. if you don't know what that is, don't worry, there shouldn't be any spoilers lmao.

His hands rest along the line of their jaw as they kiss him, so softly they’re practically hovering, as if he’s treating them with reverence. They marvel at the contact; after days thinking of the magician, and seeing him only from the depths of a fountain, he’s finally here.

With some regret, they pull back, only for Asra to lean forward and claim their lips once more. Their surroundings are silent, not a soul to be found—it is as if they’re in their own world.

When the kiss ends, the apprentice can’t help remain as close as Asra will allow. Their breaths mingle, and they nearly go cross-eyed with the effort of keeping the magician in focus.

They laugh, an exhale that ghosts along Asra’s mouth. “I’ve wanted to do that for some time now.”

Asra stares at them with a look they can’t quite describe. A smile plays upon his lips. “Oh? Then I’m disappointed you haven’t kissed me earlier.”

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual,” they say, resting their forehead against his. They settle in his lap for the long haul. Chuckling, Asra rests his palm on the plane of their back, the touch searing through the billowy fabric of their costume.

“Planning on making up for lost time?” he teases.

Their smile makes their cheeks ache. “Gladly.” It’s them who is cupping Asra’s jaw this time, planting another kiss on those soft lips. It tastes as sweet as the ones before it.


	5. admiration

“You’re staring at me,” the apprentice says, not looking up from their work. It’s a surprise their voice doesn’t tremble, seeing as the tips of their ears are hot.

“I wouldn’t call it staring,” Asra argues from where he sits, palm cradling his cheek. Contrary to his words, he is looking unblinkingly in their direction.

They finally turn to him, giving up the illusion of being focused on work. They raise a challenging brow. “So what would you call it then?”

An insufferable smirk lifts Asra’s lips, and they realize much too late he  _wanted_  them to ask that very question. “I’m admiring you.”

Despite themself, the apprentice can  _feel_  the flush travel to their cheeks. They sputter, unable to produce a witty rejoinder. Their tongue has all but given up on them.

Asra’s smirk grows. It shouldn’t be  _nearly_  as striking as it is.

Finally, they manage to find their voice. “Yes, well,“ they sniff. “Admire something else. You’re distracting me with your staring.”

His response is quick. “Unfortunately, I can’t. Because you are distracting  _me_  with your beauty.”

They groan, resting their head on the counter, as Asra laughs. Their entire face is aflame.  _My heart can’t take much more of this_.

Really, they should have known better than to challenge the magician. Have they learned nothing during the time they’ve spent together?


	6. things you didn't say at all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by an anon over on tumblr!
> 
> there are spoilers, for those of you who haven't finished the prologue.

The flowers sit on the shop’s doorstep early one morning, the day after Vesuvia learns Julian Devorak, the Count’s physician and murderer, escaped the shackles of the palace.

Asra sighs, a melancholy feeling resting in his sternum like an anvil. He remembers when the mere sight of such flowers waiting on the doorstep would elicit a smile from him. The language behind them delighted him, and his admirer knew it.

“I’ll give you flowers whenever you’re back in town,” the man had promised, taking a hold of Asra’s chin and pressing a kiss to his jaw. “It’ll be my way of welcoming you back.”

Asra had raised a brow, grinning. “And what if I leave more often, so that you’ll bring me flowers when I return?”

He had only grinned back, unruffled. “Then I’ll be satisfied with the knowledge that you _will_  come back. If only for the flowers I bring you.”

Now, the magician twirls the stem of the flowers between his fingers, the petals bleeding into one another. They almost resemble a pool of blood.

“Red anemone,” he says aloud, tone mocking. “Who do you believe forsook first, I wonder? Me or you?”

There is no reply. Of course there isn’t.

Asra gets rid of them before his apprentice awakens.


	7. "sorry i was late. i can't conceptualize time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon over on [tumblr](http://www.asrawrites.tumblr.com)!

You sigh deeply and check the time on your phone, and not for the first time.

Asra’s late. And for your date, no less!

You run a hand over your face. If you’re being honest, you aren’t surprised. This is the same person who strolls into lecture half an hour late with Starbucks ( _literally_ ), and does not seem the slightest bit concerned about his GPA. His internal clock must be fried. If he even  _has_  one.

You think about calling him when an arm falls across your shoulders. You turn, startled, only to feel lips press against your brow.

The person leans back, revealing themself to be Asra. He grins at you, looking sheepish. Well, at least he has the wherewithal to be abashed.

“Sorry I was late,” he says. “I can’t conceptualize time.”

Your lips thin. “Seriously? That’s your best excuse?”

“How about I make it up to you? I’ll buy you something. Whatever you want, from any store in the mall.”

“With what money? You’re as broke as I am!”

Asra shrugs, not miffed in the slightest. “I’m already spiraling into debt as we speak, so why not splurge?”

You groan at his nonchalant response, but don’t protest when Asra pulls you closer against his side as you walk through the mall. He’s the strangest person you’ve ever met, but you must be stranger, considering you still like him.


	8. things you said when you were drunk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon over on tumblr!

They watch with mounting exasperation as the frothy drink spills over the brim of the stein. Their eyes follow the long fingers curled around the handle to its owner.

Lucio has been drinking for some time now, his words growing slurred and temper flaring. Soon, he’ll either challenge someone to a fight to the death or pass out where he sits — neither sound particularly  _fun_  to them, who will have to step in regardless.

“Alright,” they announce. “That’s enough for tonight.”

Lucio raises a brow. “Oh? But you’ve barely touched your drink, my dear shopkeep.” He brings his own up to his lips. They can’t stop themself from watching his Adam’s apple bob as he downs the alcohol. Vexing he may be, but he  _is_  handsome.

They snap out of their appreciative daze and scowl. “I’m talking about  _you_. Drink any more and you’ll put the Rowdy Raven out of booze  _and_  business.”

The mercenary slams the stein down on the table, to the displeasure of the other patrons. “Sounds like you need more alcohol in you. Let’s have another round, on me.” He lifts his hand to signal for more drinks.

Their eye twitches. Agitated, they reach out and grab his wrist, bringing the arm down. “Let’s  _go_ , Lucio.”

Lucio looks taken aback, before a rakish grin forms on his lips. “Ah, I see. You’d like to go somewhere more… private, is it?” A clumsy hand cups their cheek. “You should’ve just said that before, my dear shopkeep.”

“Th-That’s not what I meant!” the shopkeep stammers. And yet they make no move to pull away from his touch.

His grin widens at this. He runs his thumb along their bottom lip. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you, you know,” he says, his voice a murmur. “I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

A blush overtakes the shopkeep’s features, and they open their mouth to say… they aren’t quite sure. Before they can speak a word, however, Lucio’s warm breath washes over them. It stinks of alcohol.

Suddenly, they remember where they are: in a crowded tavern, people on all sides, and some snickering and whispering about  _them_  no doubt. They pull away from Lucio’s touch. And no, there is no regret simmering in their stomach. None at all.

“You need to sleep. Alone,” they add, seeing the glimmer in the mercenary’s eye.

He sighs theatrically, throwing an arm over the back of his chair. Even drunk, he has a kind of regal air to him. “ _Very well_.”

The two of them get up from their seats, and the shopkeep has to help Lucio out of the tavern; he drank so much he can’t even walk in a line. The mercenary’s side presses against their own, and their breath leaves them more than once at his proximity.

It’s only much later that they learn he hadn’t been that drunk, that he’d used it as an excuse to put an arm across their shoulders. They won’t mind, not really.


	9. things you said over the phone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon over on tumblr!
> 
> i swear the lucio prompts are longer only because of the dialogue. lucio just has a lot to say lmao.

A loud exhale sounds from the other end of the line, filling your ear with static. “I want to see you,” Lucio says. It's close to a petulant whine.

“I saw you this morning, Lucio,” you remind him, amused.

The ruffling of sheets are your answer. Distantly, you can hear the slats of a bed groan.  _Lucio, in bed_ … your mind is heading down avenues you should avoid. Though you’re sure Lucio would encourage it, if he knew.

“I don’t care,” Lucio answers eventually. “It’s still been too long.” There’s a pause in conversation. He makes a thoughtful noise.

Your eyes narrow in suspicion. “You’re thinking about driving here, aren’t you.”

“Well, you wouldn’t mind, would—”

“Yes, I  _would_. Some people have to wake up early in the morning for lecture.”

Lucio scoffs. “There’s no need to go to them. They’re dreadfully boring. All you have to do is do the readings, really.”

You huff out a laugh, rolling your eyes. “You don’t even do those. I bet you pay someone to do all your assignments.”

A beat. “Oh, you don’t even have to pay  _that much_  for it.”

You nearly sit up in bed, your eyes wide. You shouldn’t even be surprised, and yet— “Do you know how much trouble you could get into if your prof finds out?”

“Why are we even arguing about this? I want to skip to the part where you tell me I can come over.”

You glare holes into the wall, picturing it to be your aggravating boyfriend. “ _No_ , Lucio. I swear, if you come to my dorm, I will—”

“What’s that? Yes? I’ll be there immediately.”

“ _Lucio_.”

He groans. “Alright, I won’t take you out… this time. Can I come over to sleep?”

You pause at the suggestion. You  _had_  been thinking about how nice it’d be if he was here, his arm wrapped around your waist, lips brushing the nape of your neck… “Just sleep?”

Lucio laughs, the sound travelling down your spine and leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Yes, I promise I will keep my hands to myself. For the most part.”

“…Fine. I’ll sneak you in.”

You can’t help grin when you hear Lucio eagerly get out of bed at the response. Honestly, was there any other response you could have given?


	10. "please handle me with care..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as usual, this was requested by anon over on tumblr!

His head sits on the crook of your knee, lashes fanned out delicately over his bronze skin. A small, fatigued smile plays upon his lips. This would be a wonderful sight… if Asra wasn’t _slacking off_.

You purse your lips. You shouldn’t have let him dupe you into working in your dorm room. You should have  _known_  he would pull something like this.

Muttering darkly under your breath, you jiggle the leg trapped underneath Asra’s head. “We’re almost finished the project. Can you not sleep after?”

Asra’s eyes remain stubbornly closed. “Five more minutes…” he mumbles.

You roll your eyes. “You said that  _five minutes ago_. I’ve been counting.”

He opens an eye to look up at you. “You’ve been strung out over this project since last week, and we’ve been working nonstop the past few days. I’d say we deserve a break.”

“Yeah, well,” you huff. “I just want to get this done so we can spend time together, without this project hanging over our heads. Which you’re making  _very_  hard to do, by the way.”

You jostle your leg again, except you use too much force. Asra’s head thumps onto the mattress, face first. You slap a hand over your mouth in surprise, though the guffaw that leaves you gives away your amusement.

“Please handle me with care,” Asra says, voice muffled by the mattress. “I am a very soft and sleepy creature.”

You snort, then lean over his prone form to ruffle his hair. The strands are as soft as ever. Seriously, what conditioner does he use? “Five more minutes,” you say, “and then we’ll finish this project.”

Asra turns, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. You give up and let him. “Sounds like a plan.” You rest your head on his chest, his sluggish heartbeat lulling you to sleep. Huh, you hadn’t even realized how tired you were…


	11. things you said with no space between us (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon over on tumblr!

“We have got to stop meeting like this,” Julian says, sounding jovial and not strained in the slightest. As if they had merely stumbled into one another on the streets of Vesuvia, instead of at the masquerade, hosted by the Countess  _who wants to hang him_.

Their eyes are as wide as dinner plates. “Julian? What are you—”

He tilts his head, expression obscured by the mask secured over his face. “Please, speak louder, shopkeep. I don’t think everyone heard you.”

They wince and lower their voice. “Sorry. It’s just— are you out of your mind? Why did you come here?”

Julian makes a noise of amusement. “Well, isn’t that obvious? So that I could have this dance.” He moves back and expertly twirls them.

The apprentice sputters, choking back the surprised exclamation of  _“Julian!”_  just in time. There isn’t much they can do except spin and allow themself to be guided back into Julian’s arms. Instead of facing him, though, their back meets his chest. His mask curves over their shoulder.

“Just like old times, wouldn’t you say?” Julian says wryly, lips so close to the shell of their ear they can feel his breath ghost over it.

They think back to when they had first met the man, and how they had tried to escape, only for him to capture them within moments. This time, however, they aren’t trying to struggle out of his embrace. Instead, they find themself welcoming it.

“Y-You must have some kind of death wish, coming here,” they stammer out eventually.

Julian chuckles in their ear, before turning them around so that they’re face-to-face. His eye seems to twinkle beneath the opulent chandeliers. “Perhaps,” he says.

He pulls them closer with the hand on their waist, so that they are pressed flush against him. He’s trying to tease them, they know. To produce a reaction. And it works: their traitorous cheeks turn pink.

The music swells, and for a moment, they are just another enamored couple on the dance floor instead of a disgraced doctor and the magician meant to catch him.


	12. "sometimes it physically pains me to..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon over on tumblr a long time ago omfg.

You stare. You blink. You close your eyes and open them again, as if that will in any way change the sight before you.

Asra raises a brow at you, smile quirking his lips. “What?” he asks.

You take a deep breath. “Sometimes it physically pains me to hold back my sarcastic comments.”

Asra laughs, shaking his head. His eyes twinkle with mischief. “You, hold back a sarcastic comment? I don’t think that’s ever happened.”

You scoff at his words. “Oh, it’s happening right now. You’ve been standing in front of me for five minutes and I haven’t said a  _word_  about what you’re wearing. Granted, that’s because I’m still not sure if I’m hallucinating or not.”

He glances down at himself, frowning thoughtfully. He inspects the garish rainbow coloured polka-dot jacket he’s wearing. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Asra asks you.

Oh god. He’s not kidding. “Where to even start? No, actually, I know.” You point at his feet. “What are  _those_?”

Asra looks at his crocs and, through the holes in them, you can see him wiggles his toes. “Shoes,” he answers, not even  _a little_  ashamed.

“…You are so lucky I like you too much to dump you over this,” you say after a long period of silence.

Asra grins. “Love you too.”


	13. things you said after you kissed me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon over on tumblr!

His hands, which cup their cheeks, tremble just barely. They open their eyes to see Julian’s already open; he’s staring at them with an unreadable expression. A smile spreads across his mouth. It isn’t a kind one.

“Of course I find you now,” he says dryly, almost to himself, “when I’m on the run from certain death, chasing questions I fear the answers to.”

They blink at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

The deep sigh that leaves him stirs their hair. “I’ve yearned for something like this for… all my life, really,” he confesses. “I told myself that I can’t make something real with you, not  _now_ , yet I seem to fall deeper and deeper by the day.”

Their hands come up to rest over his own. They run their thumb over the back of his left hand, where they know the murderer’s brand is seared into his skin. “I… I know it’s hard,” they begin, “but that doesn’t mean it’s  _impossible_. You can still have this.”

Julian’s smile turns sad. “I wish I could,” he says.

He leans forward, pressing his lips against their brow. They move into his touch, but he’s already drifting back, staring at them as if, should he look away, they might disappear.

“I’m sorry, but please, allow me to be selfish for just a little while longer,” he pleads.

He isn’t saying goodbye, and yet this feels just as important. Is he not telling them something? “Julian, you don’t even have to ask. You might not believe it now, but this  _is_  going to last. I’ll make sure of it,” they say, their voice firm.

Julian looks relieved at their answer. He captures their lips in another kiss, this one more desperate than the last.

After, when their foreheads are pressed together and their breaths mingling, they almost don’t hear him murmur, “Just a little while longer…”


	14. things you said with no space between us (3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon over on tumblr!
> 
> this isn't explicit, but i'm throwing a quick warning in just in case! also, this is also kind of spoilery in terms of asra and julian's paid scene in asra's book VI.

A hand snakes into his curls and tugs. Julian follows the movement, the pain sending shock-waves down his vertebrae and leaving him shaking, trembling for more.

Asra doesn’t indulge him, however. Instead, he grabs his chin with his other hand, dipping down until their mouths are so close they share the same breath. Julian can’t help it; he surges forward, drawn in like a moth to burning ember.

Then the hand in his hair  _twists_ , and Julian stops in his tracks, panting.

“Not yet,” Asra says, so soft it sounds more like a murmur than a command. Julian knows it’s meant to be obeyed all the same. “Be a little patient, Ilya.”

He grins as best he can in his dazed state. “I’m not really one for patience,” he says. “More impulsive than anything, if I’m being honest.”

Asra’s mouth quirks at one end. His fringe partially obscures his eyes, but Julian can see that they are dark and glittering like precious stones. “Then I suppose I’ll have to teach you to _wait_.”

Julian laughs. It comes out as a puff of air. “If it’s you, I’m eager to learn,” he replies.


	15. "fuck summer. i want it to be dark and..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon over on tumblr!

“Julian, are you sure you don’t want to take your jacket off?” you ask your boyfriend gingerly.

He flashes a grin at you, brow held aloft. “Oh? Do you want me to strip that badly?”

You ignore the come-on, despite your neck prickling with heat at his suggestive tone. “No, actually,” you say. “You just… look  _really_  hot. And before you say anything else, I mean hot in the sense that the sun’s out and you’re wearing three layers—and every single one of them is black.”

Julian’s amiable expression falters. He huffs. “Don’t worry about me, dear. I’m perfectly fine.” The sweat dotting his brow tells a different story.

You roll your eyes at his stubbornness. “You know, it wouldn’t kill you to wear something lighter. Or at least any colour  _but_  black. It’s summer, and—”

“Fuck summer,” says Julian, with a vehemence that surprises you. “I want it to be dark and misty and frigid and October.”

You stare at him for a moment. Julian’s frown borders a pout as he continues to bake under the harsh rays of the sun.

“…How about we just go inside somewhere, where there’s an air conditioner?” you suggest.

Julian’s reply is immediate and relieved. “ _Yes, please_.”


	16. things you said when you were scared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon over on tumblr!
> 
> heads up: this drabble features spoilers for asra's book VI!!

“Can… can you hear me?” he breathes. He hopes they’ll respond, that they’ll smile and laugh and tell him this was just a joke, they’re fine, say  _huh, you were real worried about me for a moment there, weren’t you?_

They don’t speak. Their eyes don’t turn to him. Even though he’s with them, Asra feels well and truly alone. Something he hasn’t felt in a long, long time.

“No,” he says, softly, and then louder, “no, no,  _no_. Please, say something. Anything.” He reaches out for them. He touches their face, their shoulders, and his heart seizes when their legs buckle beneath them, no longer supporting their weight.

Asra catches them in his arms, cradling them to his chest, and sinks to his knees. His eyes burn with tears. He squeezes them shut. The tears fall all the same.

“Come back,” he chokes out.  _Come back to me. Please._  He hasn’t lost them forever. He  _can’t_  have.

Desperately, Asra thinks back to his studies, to the books he’s scoured, trying to recall anything that will work… to remember…

He looks down at their catatonic form.  _Remember_ …

A trembling hand rests against their temple. He shuts his eyes, attempts to regain some semblance of calm, and leans down to press a kiss against their forehead. He reaches for the magic within him.

Then he moves back, his heart hammering against his rib cage, as if at any moment it would be dislodged from its position.

Slowly, ever so slowly, their expression clears. Their eyes, no longer wide and glazed over, lock onto his own.

“Asra…?” they whisper.

Relief washes over him like a tidal wave, and yet he feels hollow. Empty.


	17. steal some covers, share some skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for once, this isn't a request, haha.
> 
> it is, however, deserving of a **mature rating**. this isn't complete and utter smut, but things get steamy, so read only if you're comfortable with that sort of thing!
> 
> inspired by [this sketch](http://thearcanagame.tumblr.com/post/154476049089/) by the devs and my headcanons for asra. :^)

You awake to the soft press of lips against your shoulder blade. You don’t move at the realization, just revel in the moment.

You’re in your shop, swathed in sheets, with your magician. There are no costumers haggling for lower prices, no pressing matters to attend to. Outside, you hear the marketplace thriving, the people of Vesuvia awake and alert, but for now, you don’t have to join them.

The lips against your shoulder blade move; they place small closed-mouth kisses along your bare skin, following an invisible path to your spine, where they rest, stagnant. You shiver when you feel something unmistakably like the fluttering of eyelashes tickle your skin.

“Did I wake you?” Asra asks, sounding far too innocent for it to be genuine.

You chuckle into your pillow. “Yes, you did,” you say, voice raspy with sleep. “I was hoping to sleep in this morning.”

He adopts an apologetic tone, though there is no masking his smirk. You feel it against your vertebrae. “Ah, I’m sorry. Please, don’t mind me. Feel free to go back to sleep.”

You open your mouth to tease back when Asra resumes his kisses. This time, they’re open-mouthed; you can feel his hot breath against your skin, every exhale purposely long and drawn-out. Your fingers tighten around your pillow at the sensation.

“You,” the word leaves your lips as a hiss, “are a cruel,  _cruel_  witch.”

Asra draws back—you bite your lip to refrain from protesting—to laugh. “Cruel, you say? Well, then, let me make up for my cruelty.”

You look at him from over your shoulder. Asra’s lying beside you, bare chested, propped up by his elbow. His curls are messier than usual, sticking up every which way. His eyes are focused solely on you, mouth curled up on one side.

“I’m listening…” you say cautiously.

Asra’s smile widens. With his hand, he nudges you until you acquiesce and turn so that you’re lying on your back. He hovers over you, miles of brown skin stretching above you. He’s all you can see now.

You raise a brow when he doesn’t move again. “Well?”

“Yes?”

“How do you plan on making up for your cruelty?”

“I don’t know. How would  _you_  like me to make up for it?”

You groan at his reply. “Stop teasing me and  _do_  something already,” you instruct him. Instead of sounding commanding, however, you just come off petulant.

Asra indulges you all the same, thankfully. “As you wish,” he says, amused, and captures your lips in a kiss. But before you can deepen it, he’s already moved away.

He trails a path of kisses down your throat, pausing briefly at your chest, then lazily continuing down, down,  _down_. He runs a hand along your leg, before his hand curves beneath your thigh and mounts it over the expanse of his shoulder.

Your breath catches, rattling in your rib cage, when Asra looks up at you from underneath his fringe, his gaze dark and intent.

Then his mouth descends, and your back arches in pleasure.

 

The two of you don’t get out of bed for some time that morning.


	18. can't let go yet kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon over on tumblr!

“I’m sure it’s time for you to return to the palace. No doubt the Countess will want you to return to your, ah,  _investigation_ ,” he says, his tone steeped in derision.

They understand it’s not directed at them, but at the situation the two of them are in. After all, the Countess wants them to apprehend Julian Devorak, her husband’s alleged murderer… and here they are, wrapped up in his embrace. Well,  _right now_  they’re not, but they can clearly recall the feeling of his arms wrapped about their waist, his lips pushing against theirs.

“You’re right,” they say regrettably. “I guess this is… goodbye, for now.”

“Hmm, I guess it is,” is Julian’s noncommittal response. They feel a touch disappointed by it when a smirk teases his lips. “I don’t suppose a goodbye kiss is in order?”

The apprentice’s own lips twitch upwards into a smile as their gaze drops to his mouth. They’ve kissed him many times now, yet they can’t seem to get enough of him. “I believe it is just what the doctor ordered.”

He laughs at that, even as he draws them closer. The leather of his gloves rub against the material of their clothes but they don’t mind. Instead they wind their arms around his shoulders, meeting his lips in a kiss.

They think one kiss will be all they get. They couldn’t be more wrong. Julian moves to break the kiss, only for them to chase after his mouth, desperate for another. He chuckles into the kiss though indulges them all the same, pressing a hand beneath their chin to deepen it.

When they pull back, already regretting the decision, Julian doesn’t allow them to leave for long. And so they kiss the good doctor countless times more, familiarizing themself with the inside of his mouth.

Eventually they have to stop to catch their breaths. Julian leans his forehead against theirs as they pant, mouths bruised and hair mussed.

“That was…” he begins, breathless. “It… sure was something.”

“I’ll see you again, won’t I?” they say once they no longer feel lightheaded.

Julian moves away from them, back towards the alley they had emerged from. He’s sporting a wide grin, the whites of his teeth glinting like the flash of a blade. A blade they had been intimately acquainted with just moments ago. “I’m not going anywhere, don’t worry.” He says their name like a caress. “Whenever you can afford to pull yourself away from your investigation, find me at the Rowdy Raven. I… I’ll be waiting.”

He melts into the shadows of the alleyway, his coat swishing around him as he walks away. They strain their ears until the pounding of his boots on the cobblestones is swallowed up by the city streets.

“Until then, Julian,” they say to themself, touching their lips briefly before they turn to make their way to the palace.


	19. breathtaking kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon over on tumblr!
> 
> this is longer than most drabbles because it's my first portia request and i'm gay lmfao.

It’s the perfect evening. Portia convinced them to take a break from their investigation in the library and brought them to her cottage, where she bundled a picnic blanket and basket. Which led them to where they are now: a little ways away from her cozy house, sitting cross-legged on a blanket and eating the snacks Portia had packed.

“Better?” Portia, lounging beside them, asks. A knowing smile plays upon her lips.

“ _Much_  better,” they groan. “I didn’t even realize it was lunch time until you came to get me. Thank you, Portia. You’re the best.”

She waves it off. “No worries! I wish I’d rescued you from those dusty desks sooner, but I was busy with my duties. I should be thanking  _you_ , in a way. It gets too stuffy in that palace after a while. You gave me an excuse to get out of there.”

“It really is stuffy,” they say. “I’ve only ever lived in my shop. It’s… definitely not as spacious as the palace, let’s put it at that.”

Portia nods sympathetically. “Takes some getting used to, doesn’t it?”

They smile over at her. “You’ve made me feel more comfortable, though,” they say. “If it weren’t for you, I’d be overwhelmed by all of this. So, um, thanks for looking out for me.”

Portia’s neck turns a deep red at their words. The colour spreads to her cheeks. “You’re going to turn me into a tomato if you keep that up,” she laughs, shaking her head almost bashfully.

The apprentice grins. “That just makes me want to butter you up more.”

Portia looks back at them, and they realize with a jolt just how close she is. Their shoulders are brushing and, if they wanted, they could count every individual eyelash that fans her eyelids. Their gaze drops to her full mouth before they realize that, this close, it’s obvious where they’re staring. Colouring, they force their gaze back up.

Too late. She caught them in the act. Her brow arches. “See something you like?” she asks, teasing, but her voice has a breathy quality to it.

They swallow, summoning all of their courage. “I do,” they murmur, before they close the space between them and capture her lips in a kiss.

Portia melts against them instantly, heaving out a sigh that sounds suspiciously like, “ _Finally_.” They cup the back of her head, fingers weaving into her mess of curls. Her mouth tastes sweet like the pastries they’d had earlier.

When they pull apart, their eyes stay closed. They try to process what just happened. They had taken the first step.  _Them_. And she had actually kissed them back.

Portia chuckles. Lips press against their eyelids, one after the other. “You planning on opening your eyes anytime soon, love?” she asks. The endearment throws them in for another loop.

“R-Right,” they stammer, before slowly opening their eyes. They almost think Portia won’t be there, that they’ll awake to find themself having dozed off in the library as they sometimes do. But they’re greeted by a gorgeous, grinning handmaiden.

“Hello,” she teases, tucking an errant strand of hair behind their ear.

“Hello,” they breathe back, and smile.


	20. in the moment kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon over on tumblr!
> 
> i made this an hp/hogwarts au because reasons haha. passionate kissing ahead y'all!

Potions class ends, and you drag your feet as you leave the classroom. You might not have blown up your cauldron like one unfortunate soul did, but you didn’t do so well, either. Your friends commiserate with you before heading their separate directions, leaving you to your morose thoughts.

You pull your robes tighter around you and move to walk past a tunnel in the dungeons when a hand reaches out from the darkness and grabs your wrist. You yelp in alarm, until your back meets the frigid dungeon wall and you realize who’s standing before you.

“Asra!” you hiss, slapping him on the arm. “You git! I almost hexed you, I was so scared!”

A nearby torchlight just barely illuminates Asra’s features, making his brown skin look darker than it is. The fire flickers in Asra’s dark, glittering eyes.

“Sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t look at all apologetic for frightening you. “I guess I should say thanks for not hexing me.”

You huff. “You shouldn’t thank me so soon. I might still hex you.”

“I know you won’t,” he says, lips quirking into a grin. It shouldn’t be half as alluring as it is. “You like me too much.”

You shake your head, leaning back against the wall now that it appears Asra won’t be moving away any time soon. “Yeah, well, I’m starting to like you  _less_  now.”

Asra tilts his head, a twinkle in his eyes that doesn’t sit right with you. You narrow your eyes at him, suspicious. When you open your mouth to ask him what he’s thinking of doing, however, he’s already cupping your cheek.

You have time to refuse what’s coming next; instead, you allow his lips to slant over your own. If he’s going to be a smartass, you figure you might as well get something out of it.

The heat of his body pressing against yours warms you in the cold of the dungeons, and you clutch onto his robes for leverage, or maybe to ensure he doesn’t try to move back. You don’t know; your mind is too occupied with the feeling of his soft lips.

Asra’s tongue runs along the closed seam of your lips, and at first you refuse to open your mouth. He huffs, annoyed. You just smile into the kiss, glad to have the upper hand for once. 

You don’t tease him for long; you’ve been thinking about this since breakfast in the Great Hall, truth be told. So you part your lips and let him lick into your mouth. You can taste the peppermint candy he’s always sucking on, and let him tilt your head back so he can kiss you even deeper. Your fingers tighten in the material of his robes.

A loud noise echoes through the dungeons, the only reason the two of you spring back, breaking the kiss. Your ragged breaths fill the space between you.

“I think that’s a sign that we should get  _out_  of the dungeons,” you say, glancing around and running a hand through your hair to fix it. “I hate coming down here for potions.”

Asra chuckles and steps back. “Alright. Guess I’ll have to show you why you like me later, in more detail,” he says, tone playful but full of promise.

You nudge his shoulder as the two of you walk out of the tunnel. “Oh, I’m holding you to that.”


	21. breathtaking kiss (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by the-scarlett-conversationalist over on tumblr! my first nadia request bless.
> 
> only smooches happen in this, but there _is_ implied nudity!

You’ve been in Nadia’s private baths before. You loved running wet fingers through your hair, lounging in the corners, just allowing yourself to fully enjoy an experience you thought you’d never get again.

You should be overjoyed to get that opportunity again, especially after the tumultuous events of the masquerade, and you  _are_ , except…

Nadia, submerged in the water, rises to her full height. Water cascades down her body in rivulets, and she flips her wet hair back until it clings to the small of her back. She looks ethereal, like a goddess.

You’re caught off-guard when she turns to you, a thick brow arching high on her forehead. Strands of her hair stick to her cheeks, distracting you.

“Is something amiss?” she asks you. “You’ve been huddled over there the entire time we’ve been in here. If you’d like the water’s temperature to be changed, you need only ask. I could send for Portia—”

“No!” you squeak out hurriedly. “Th-That’s fine. Everything’s, um, fine.”

Nadia looks amused. “Is that so?” She begins to swim over to you which, if you’re being honest, sends your heart racing.

You can only watch as she swims closer, until she’s floating before you. Now you can see water beading on her forehead, her  _lips_ … which curl into a smirk. You drag your eyes up to meet Nadia’s.

“You were so bold before,” she muses. She runs a hand down your arm, feather-light. The touch leaves goosebumps in its wake. “What happened to always being in close contact with your magician?”

“Well, I mean…” you say as Nadia draws even closer. It becomes harder for you think. “It’s one thing to change near someone, and another to  _bathe_  with them. And you…”

Nadia tilts her head. “And I?” she prompts.

You find enough courage within you to reach out and push back the strands sticking to her cheek. “You have a habit of making me nervous,” you say.

She’s absurdly pleased by your words, her other hand reaching up and cupping your jaw. You sigh, nuzzling into the warmth of her palm, before leaning in to meet her lips halfway.

You’re prepared for it and yet she still manages to steal your breath from you. All you can do is kiss back, your hand falling onto her shoulder and tangling into her wet locks. Distantly, you can hear water falling, pooling, and find yourself completely at ease in the Countess’ embrace.

When you break the kiss, you’re flushed, panting for breath.

“Are you still nervous now, I wonder?” Nadia says, not having moved out of your space. If she had, you’re sure you would have tried to stop her.

“No,” you say, smiling. You move to wrap your arms around Nadia. “I’m much better now.”

This time, it’s you who leans in to kiss her.


	22. empty kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon over on tumblr!

She maintains careful control over her features throughout the proceedings. It’s not difficult. After years enduring her sisters’ teasing, Nadia can skilfully disguise her true emotions.

Lucio is decked in full regalia, cape thrown about his shoulders and gold arm on full display. He looks every inch a Count. Standing beside him in her flowing gown, Nadia must look formidable as well. A Countess.

The thought titillates her. Her sisters had always expressed concern over her finding a good match, their honeyed words doing nothing to hide their laughing eyes. Yet here she is, in spite of all their doubts, about to be wed and made a Countess.

Nadia scrutinizes the man before her. Her husband-to-be. They’ve talked briefly before, but he never struck a chord within her. She isn’t particularly captivated by him. Could she come to love him? It remains to be seen. 

The wedding ceremony draws to a close. Nadia steels herself when Lucio’s gaze turns to her.

They move close together as one, just as they have rehearsed, though Lucio would always be late and slip away when he grew bored. His gold arm winds around her waist. She rests her hand on his chest.

Nadia closes her eyes as he kisses her, anticipating… she isn’t sure what. A thrill, a giddy feeling,  _something_. She feels nothing.

Around them, their guests cheer. The music swells. She can feel Lucio’s lips curve into a grin.

They pull back and turn to their adoring public. Nadia smiles at the crowd, resolved; even if she may not come to love her husband, she will do everything in her power to please her subjects.


	23. in the moment kiss (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by flowersandmurders over on tumblr!

“You don’t have to do this, Countess,” Portia says, frowning. “I could hold those vultures at bay, if you’d like. It might take some quick thinking, but…”

Nadia shakes her head. “Thank you for offering, Portia, but I cannot avoid them any longer. I’m sure the Consuls are suspicious. I’ve awakened after  _years_  yet I refuse to speak to them. Why is that?” A dry smile twists her lips. “Yes, it’s time I met with them for longer than a few minutes.”

Portia sighs at the conviction in the Countess’ voice. “Right, of course. Should I be at your side during the meeting, then? It would be understandable if you wanted your handmaiden there while you recuperate.” Her determined gaze rises to meet Nadia’s. “If they ask something you can’t dodge without drawing suspicion, just say you got a headache. I’ll help you out the room!”

Nadia laughs for the first time that evening. “That… is not a bad idea. Thank you for offering to help.”

The handmaiden waves the words off. “Oh, it’s no problem. Really. It’s what I’m here for.”

Nadia gets up from her seat, stopping in front of Portia. “I mean it,” she says fondly. “Ever since I woke up without any memory of the past three years, you have been by my side. If it weren’t for you, I would be… truly, completely alone.”

Portia’s breath catches when the other woman’s hand comes up to caress her cheek. “I… you’re welcome, then, Countess.”

Nadia stares at her for a moment, silent. A slow smile spreads across her lips. Then she’s leaning in, giving her ample time to pull back.

Portia doesn’t move, doesn’t dare breathe as that smile presses against her mouth. It registers as a slight pressure, before Portia moves closer to deepen it, something Nadia wholeheartedly encourages if her grip on her tunic is any indication.

It’s a while until their lips, regretfully, part. They need to breathe, after all. Portia is still giddy over the realization of what just happened when she hears the Countess breathe, “Nadia.”

Portia blinks. Her mind is still mush. ”Pardon?”

“When we are alone, call me by my name,” Nadia repeats patiently.

“Oh, um,” she stammers, before tentatively saying, “Nadia.” It sounds so sweet rolling off her tongue. She has to say it again. “ _Nadia_.”

That earns her another kiss, this one more enthusiastic than the last.


	24. can't let go yet kiss (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by melodramatic-butterfly over on tumblr!

“Do I have to go so soon?” they ask, disappointment etched in their features. They were enjoying exploring more of the oasis; meeting new creatures, seeing impossible sights.

More importantly, though, they were enjoying spending time with Asra, and now they no longer have to control the urge to kiss him. They could do it, and the magician would welcome it with an awe that threatened to make their heart skip a beat.

Asra smiles at them, reaching out to rub his thumb over the swell of their cheek. “I wish you didn’t have to either,” he says, “but it’s... not _entirely_ safe here.”

They furrow their brows. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. In fact, I’ll be with you soon.”

“What does that mean? Do you want to meet again, or… wait, are you coming to the palace?”

His smile turns into something more mischievous. “You’ll see,” is his mysterious response. “For now, though, you should go.”

Before he can place a hand over their eyes, they say, “Hang on.” His brow twitches in mild surprise, but he listens and waits. They smile and lean in to kiss him one last time.

Only when they start, they can’t stop. Asra’s hands are on their hips, fingers digging into the material there, and pull them so close they’re resting against his chest. They place a hand against the bare skin of his chest, accidentally on purpose, and grin when they feel him shudder.

The luminous creatures from before swirl around them, buzzing in their ears, but they pay them no mind. The apprentice is too busy with Asra’s lips, his tongue; their fingers delve into the mess of his curls and anchor themselves there.

He bestows them with kiss after kiss, until the both of them are gasping for breath. When he thinks of stopping, they yank on his scarf to pull him in for another kiss.

They only pull apart when thunder rumbles in the distance. Asra’s lips are swollen and wet, and the apprentice wants nothing more to return to kissing him, but they know they’ve overstayed.

Asra looks at them with an expression that warms them to their core. “I can’t seem to get enough of you,” he says with a small laugh.

“Good, because neither can I,” they say, running their fingers through his hair in an attempt to smooth them out. They give up eventually, their hand gliding down to cup his cheek. He leans into it, surprised, as if still unable to believe this is real.

“I’ll see you again,” Asra promises, straightening himself up, “and soon.”

Then his hand is passing over their eyes, and they awaken to the fountain and Faust, who’s curled up near them.

They sigh. They already miss him. “I’m holding you to that promise, Asra.”


	25. early morning kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon over on tumblr!

It’s the smell of food, delicious and mouthwatering, that makes their eyes blink open. It takes time for the haze of sleep to lift from their mind.

When it does, they turn to the other side of their bed. Asra no longer sleeps downstairs, but with them, except he’s not there. They run their hand over the spot. Cold. He’s been up for a while.

“Oh, you’re awake,” comes a voice from behind them. They turn to see Asra standing by the door frame, a tray in his hands. “Good morning.”

They cock their head to the side. “You made me breakfast?”

“I know how grumpy you get in the morning, so I figured it would brighten your spirits,” the magician teases as he carefully sets the tray over their lap. He sits on the edge of the bed beside them.

They chuckle, shaking their head. “If I wasn’t so tired, and you weren’t right, I would have taken offense to that.”

Asra smiles and watches as they take a sip of the soup. It’s made just the way they like it. They moan appreciatively, before breaking off a piece of the hot bread next to the bowl, dipping it in, and offering it to Asra. He made it, after all, so he should have  _some_.

They expect him to grab it from them, but of course he doesn’t. Instead, with a wicked grin, he eats the food from their fingers. His mouth touches their skin, lingering purposely, before he moves back.

“You’re incorrigible, you know that?” they ask him, a fond smile quirking their lips.

“Hmm, I’ve been told that from time to time,” Asra says, playing along.

They laugh, then lean forward to kiss him. They’re still tired, and the tray covering their lap limits their movement, so they end up kissing the dip of his chin instead. The way his eyes light up makes the minor inconvenience worth it.

“Thank you for the breakfast,” they say.

He kisses their temple in response. “You’re very welcome.”


	26. in the moment kiss (3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by justmaghookit over on tumblr!
> 
> a quick warning: there's implied sex ahead, but nothing explicit.

Fighting with Lucio is inevitable lately. Their relationship is a thread pulled taut, ready to snap at a moment’s notice. Or so it feels, when Lucio’s face twists into a sneer and their blood rushes in their ears.

So they aren’t surprised that after Lucio returns to Vesuvia from his last job, the two of them end up fighting.

They tried to remain civil, but it’s  _difficult_ , with Lucio being a live wire and them someone who refused to back down from their stance. All too soon they were straining their voices with shouts, until they no longer remembered what it had been that had set them off.

But as quickly as they fought, tension rising with every second, it dissolved to something else entirely.

Suddenly Lucio’s pulling them close, their mouths joined and hands grasping at each other’s hard edges, as if determined to smooth them down. They are a flurry of activity; them jumping up to wrap their legs around his waist, Lucio pressing them against the nearest wall none-too-gently.

His mouth is hot and insistent underneath theirs, his teeth as hard as his words. It’s a good hurt, though. A pleasurable hurt.

They don’t make it to the bed. Lucio guides them to the back room instead, where they fight in a different sense until they’re spent and satiated.

When they’re sprawled across Lucio’s chest, hair wild and skin marred with crescent moon wounds, they whisper against his skin, “You won’t stop, will you? You’ll keep leaving for weeks on end, with me left wondering if it’ll be this time that you don’t return? Can’t you ever stay?”

Lucio doesn’t respond, his chest moving with heavy breaths. The silence stretches between them, on and on.

They wonder if he’s already fast asleep. They know he isn’t.


	27. "we'll do dishes together."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon over on tumblr!

They find Portia in the kitchens, scowling at a counter with dirty dishes piled high upon it. “That… looks like a lot of work,” they say, drawing the handmaiden’s attention. “I thought you said you weren’t on kitchen duty?”

She’s surprised by their appearance. “Oh, I completely forgot!” she says, apologetic. “Sorry, but I won’t be able to take you to my cottage today. The person supposed to be doing these dishes threw the responsibility at me, citing an  _emergency_.” Portia scowls again, her gaze narrow and far off. “They always have some emergency or another come up when they have to do actual work… honestly…”

The apprentice waves her off. “No need to apologize, Portia. I understand.” They turn towards the dishes, frowning thoughtfully. “You know, the job would go faster if I gave you a hand.”

Portia turns back to them, brows high on her forehead. “I couldn’t possibly ask that of you! You’re Milady’s guest here at the palace!”

“ _And_  I’m your friend,” they add. “Aren’t I?”

She purses her lips. They’ve got her there. “Well, yes, but—”

“So I want to help. Please?” They smile warmly at her. “We’ll do dishes together, and after you can show me around your cottage. I was really looking forward to seeing Pepi again.”

Portia chuckles at that, tension draining from her shoulders. She gives them an appraising look. Is that… pink dusting her cheeks? “Alright, fine. You’ve convinced me. How about I wash and you dry?”

The apprentice nods, pulling up their sleeves. “Sounds good to me.” They catch the rag Portia chucks at them, grinning, and get to work.


	28. "your bedhead is really cute."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon over on tumblr!

When they awake, it’s to a heartbeat thrumming under their ear. They startle, then remember they had stayed over at their shop with Julian, discussing the investigation into the late hours of the night.

“You’re up,” Julian says when they yawn, propping themselves up on an elbow.

“Mhm.” Their eyes blink open to see the doctor staring at them, his lips twitched into a grin. They raise a questioning brow. “What is it?”

“Nothing, really…” His grin sharpens. “Your bedhead is really cute, is all.”

The words don’t register at first, but when they do, the apprentice shakes their head. “You’re one to talk.” They reach out and tug at a lock of his unruly hair. “You have constant bedhead. You’re lucky it looks good on you.”

Julian laughs, jostling them. “We’re two peas in a pod, then.”

They raise a brow, amused. “A pair of bedheads?”

He pecks their lips. “We make it work.”


	29. "you smell really nice."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon over on tumblr!

The two of them are at the bridge once more, neither of them able to find sleep. This time, however, they have their arms wrapped around Nadia from behind. “To combat the cold,” they explained, grinning, and she had welcomed it with a twinkling laugh.

They speak in low tones about their past; Nadia of Prakra and her family, the apprentice of their shop and Asra. Soon they fall into peaceful silence.

With a content sigh, they lean their head against Nadia’s shoulder, smiling when her hair tickles their nose. The sweet scent of jasmine washes over them, and they close their eyes, inhaling deeply.

It must be lack of sleep that eases the words out from their lips, unbidden. “You smell  _really_ nice.” Their eyes shoot open in horror. “Um, I mean…!”

Nadia chuckles under her breath. “I’m glad you think so,” she says, teasing. “I wouldn’t want you to find my smell off-putting.”

They groan. “Can you pretend I didn’t say that?”

“Never,” she gasps. She’s having too much fun with this. “I will treasure those words forever. They will be engraved in my heart.”

They groan louder. Nadia laughs again, her shoulders shaking with mirth. Her reaction, at least, lessens their embarrassment some.

As long as Nadia is happy, they don’t mind playing the fool.


	30. "will you let me rub your back?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon over on tumblr!

“Are you alright?”

They turn, surprised, towards Asra, who’s staring at them with a look of concern. They hadn’t even heard him step out of the back room.

“I’m fine,” they say dismissively, and resume restocking the shelves. They wince when their back twinges again, pain flaring along their spine and settling into their shoulders.

“Doesn’t look like you’re alright,” Asra says, moving closer. He leans his arms on the counter.

Setting their jaw, they force themself to return to work, pain be damned. “I’m okay, really. I just need to finish this.”

“Hmm. Why don’t you lie down in the back room for a while? I’ll rub your back,” the magician suggests. “If you’re so concerned, I’ll restock the shelves for you later.”

They glance over their shoulder, ignoring the pang it produces, and fix him with a dubious look. “You? Clean up? Usually you leave your things lying around for me to pick up.”

Asra’s cheeks tinge pink at that. “Yes, well… I can tidy up this once, at least,” he says, tone sheepish.

They shake their head. “I didn’t mean to berate you. Much. Don’t worry about it, Asra. This is part of my duties as shopkeep.” They go back to working, though not for long. Soon enough, hands reach out and grasp their own, stopping their motion.

Asra is beside them, frowning. His thumb rubs circles over the back of their hand. “You don’t have to work when you’re hurt, you know. It’s important to take a break once in a while, for your own health.” They bite their lip. He sighs at their visible hesitation. “If not for yourself, then for me. Will you rest up and let me rub your back?”

They can’t bring themself to say no to that. They  _do_  make a show of rolling their eyes, however. “If you insist. Lead the way, magician.”

Asra smiles, relieved, and tugs on their hands. He walks backwards, towards the back room. “Just you wait until I get my hands on you. My back rubs are to die for…”


	31. "don't be stubborn. try it!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon over on tumblr!

They look at Asra’s expectant face, then at the bubbling concoction he pressed into their hands just moments ago. “Yeah, uh,  _no_.”

Asra laughs at their response. “Don’t be stubborn. Try it!” he insists. “Would I ever want you try something I knew you wouldn’t like?”

They squint at him. “Yes, you would.”

He sighs dramatically, then brings his own bowl to his lips and takes a large sip. When he pulls the bowl away, there’s a thin layer of soup on his upper lip. He promptly it licks off. “Are you satisfied now?”

“You’re saying that as if I haven’t seen you eat disgusting things before,” they say. Despite their words, they take a tentative sip from their bowl, bracing themself for anything.

It tastes… strange. They take another sip. Somehow, it tastes much better the second time.

Asra grins. “I knew you’d like it,” he says triumphantly. Then a softer, more contemplative look crosses his features. “Every time I would pass by here, I would think of bringing you to this stall. I was afraid I would never get the opportunity.”

They reach out with their free hand to twine their fingers with his. “I’m glad we got the chance to travel together, after everything that’s happened,” they say.

He squeezes their fingers. “I’ve got a lot more to show you, you know… as well as a lot more questionable food I’d like you to try.”

They laugh. “I can’t wait.”


	32. "i heard you talking in your sleep."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon over on tumblr!

They’re in the kitchen. Asra is making breakfast while they sit on a kitchen counter, legs swinging idly.

They’re telling him about an exchange with a customer, and Asra interjects from time to time, but for the most part he’s quiet. He listens to their voice as he cooks, their tone excited and pitched higher than usual. Their hands arch in the air as they speak.

There is something unusual, though. Asra pauses in his ministrations. There’s something he’s missing. Or forgetting…

“Hey.” A foot pokes his side. “Are you still listening?”

Asra turns to them, then smiles. “Yes, of course,” he says. On a whim, he abandons the food and moves so that he’s standing in front of them. His hands glide up their legs until they rest on the sides of their waist.

They part their thighs so he can move closer. Their arms settles on his shoulders. “You sure there’s nothing on your mind? Or is my story boring you?”

He shakes his head. “How could I focus on anything else, when you’re in front of me?”

As he hoped, a blush blooms across their cheeks. They laugh. “Flatterer,” they say, tone accusatory.

“I live to serve,” he teases.

They lean their forehead against his. “What am I going to do with you, Asra?” The words are impossibly fond.

His heart twists in his chest, his eyes slipping closed in contentment. “Anything you wish…”

Then they snap open. He’s not in the kitchen anymore. He’s lying in his bed in the back room, the curtains closed. Light cast from a single lamp bathes the room in a yellow glow.

At the mouth of the room, the apprentice stands, a concerned frown tugging at their lips. Their eyes follow him as he sits up and runs a hand over his face. “I heard you talking in your sleep,” they say cautiously. “Bad dreams?”

Asra can’t meet their gaze for long, not when he still remembers his dream. Their eyes alight with laughter, their features soft with affection. “Something like that,” he mumbles, and leaves it at that.

They don’t inquire further. He isn’t sure if he should be thankful or mournful about that.


	33. blood sport

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s october, otherwise known as Halloween Month, and julian has a pain kink. what did you think would happen?
> 
> anywhomst, **warning** for pain and blood kink. i... have no excuse lmfao.

They stare at him for a long while, then shake their head. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

Julian’s entire face is a scarlet hue at this point. He doesn’t back down, but he doesn’t quite meet their eyes either. His gaze is trained on their brow. “Of— Of course I do,” he stammers.

They can hear his heart beating a rapid rhythm in his chest, the blood rushing in his veins and settling in his cheeks. “And that’s why you’re so afraid?” they ask skeptically.

He clears his throat. “I’m not, um,  _afraid_ , exactly,” he says. It takes some time for him to speak again. “I’m... well, I suppose excited would be a more appropriate word?”

Their brows jump up. “Excited?”

Somehow, Julian flushes harder. “At... at the prospect of you... biting me, yes.”

This piques their interest. They walk over to him at languid pace, head cocked to the side. His heartbeat picks up. Their eyes narrow.

They stop in front of him, reaching out. Their hand curves around his neck, fingers delving into tufts of red hair. His heartbeat skyrockets in response. His hands come up to shakily clasp the sides of their waist.

“Huh,” they say, pleasantly surprised. They’re at a loss for words. In all their time as a witch turned vampire, they’ve experienced a lot. No one has ever asked them to  _bite_  them before, however.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Will you do it?” he asks.

They study Julian. His face is delightfully ruddy, the eye that is now fixated on them glazed over with want. His chest heaves with his breaths, which are picking up. Then their eyes drop to his neck. His pulse throbs there, just barely.

“If that is what you want?” they ask in return. They don’t drink from the unwilling, not since they first turned and were unable to help themselves. Then again, it’s been too long since they have drank from the source, so to speak. Usually Asra provides them with blood or, in dire situations, offers his own.

And for someone to be as willing as Doctor Julian Devorak... that is a rare treat, indeed. They can’t refuse such an opportunity, not when it’s staring them right in the face. Ripe for the taking.

“ _Yes_ ,” says Julian. It’s more of a ragged breath than a word, but they hear it.

They don’t ask again. “Very well, then.”

They lean in, slowly, until their mouth is barely brushing the pale skin of his neck. Their gums burn, a telltale sign of their fangs emerging. They rest their fangs on his skin but don’t puncture it, unable to resist teasing the doctor. Out of curiosity, of course.

It works. Julian trembles against them. His hands tighten on their waist; if they were human, it might have even hurt.

“What are you waiting for? Do it already.” His previous nervousness is gone. Impatience colours his tone now. They frown to themselves. That won’t do.

They raise their head so that their lips skim his earlobe. “What’s the magic word, Doctor Devorak?” they ask, amused.

Julian shivers, his hands reflexively tightening around them. “P- _Please_.” The impatience from before is replaced by need.

“That’s much better.” Their free hand grabs his jaw without further preamble, tilting his head so that his neck is bared. He allows the movement, his breath skittering in what can only be anticipation. How had they ever thought him afraid of them, of what they are?

For a moment, all is still. The tension in the room mounts; it’s a thread pulled taut. Then they rest their fangs against the pale column of his throat and press down. They can taste copper, thick and heady, on their tongue.

Julian moans, so loud that it echoes throughout the room. His knees buckle, and had it not been for their inhuman strength, he would have gone sprawling onto the floor. But they hold him upright with little effort on their part, drinking deeply from him. Once they’ve had a taste, they don’t wish to stop.

The doctor has the same feeling, it seems. He pulls them closer still, his breaths deep and ragged. He trembles from pleasure.

Eventually they blindly back him up until he meets a wall. They press themself up against him fully now, their hand still on his jaw—tight enough to keep him in place, but not enough to truly harm him.

They have enough control not to drain him, of course. When they feel it best, they pull back from his neck. Julian deflates, a whine leaving his lips. Their mouth curls up in amusement. Is he still not satisfied?

They turn towards his neck, where a smear of blood remains. They lean forward and lick it clean, enjoying the small, involuntary whimper that leaves Julian at the action. When they look at it once more, they can see their handiwork clearly: two puncture holes near the junction where his neck meets his shoulder, which can be easily hidden with the collar of that ostentatious coat the doctor likes so much.

They run a cursory thumb over the holes. A feeling, strange and new, blooms within them. Pride, maybe. Or something more predatory.

Finally, they look up at Julian. His eye is trained on them with rapt attention, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. They blink, taken aback, when he reaches out and touches their chin. His thumb comes away with a ruby droplet. His blood must have coated their mouth; they’ve gotten sloppy since they last drank from someone.

Looking carefully at the doctor, they grasp his wrist and lick the drop of blood off his thumb. He quakes at the sight.

“Are you...” Julian begins, voice low. They watch his tongue dart out to lick his lips with fascination. “Are you done already?”

They laugh. “What a peculiar creature you are, Doctor Devorak.” They watch him, not moving out of his personal space. He doesn’t ask him to. They have the feeling he’d be disappointed if they did. “Yes, I’m done. But if you’re amenable to it... we could do this again.”

Julian’s chest heaves with every breath. His heartbeat has yet to return to a normal pace. “I-I would like that very much,” he manages to say.

They grin. Peculiar indeed.


	34. "i love your hugs."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon over on tumblr!

Another day passes by, and they find themselves in the library, sitting at Julian’s desk with nothing to show for it. With a loud groan, they rest their forehead on the desk, a growing headache pounding at their temples.

“I’m guessing today was another slow day for the investigation?” comes a voice from nearby, startling them.

The apprentice lifts their head to see Portia walking towards them, a tray in her hands. At their puzzled look, she explains, “You missed dinner. Milady was concerned, so she asked me to bring you food. Technically she didn’t  _have_  to ask me, since I would’ve done it anyway, but…” She shrugs her shoulders as she sets the tray on the desk.

“Thanks, Portia,” they say sincerely. “I must have lost track of time.” They stretch, aching joints popping as they do, before looking out the window. How had they not realized how late it was?

“How are you doing?” Portia asks, leaning a hip against the desk. Her eyes soften as she takes in the notes they were poring over. Julian’s looping, cryptic cursive writing fills the pages.

“Fine,” they say. She fixes them with a skeptical look. “…Frustrated, I guess. I’ve hit a wall. I wish I had  _something_  to show the Countess after all this time, but I’ve got nothing.”

“Hey, nobody has been able to find anything for three years. You’ve just started looking.” Portia moves away from the desk to wrap her arms around their shoulders. “Give it time. Milady believes in you… and so do I.”

With a sigh, they melt into her embrace, resting their cheek against her stomach. They close their eyes. “I love your hugs.”

“As you should. I give the best hugs,” Portia teases. “Now eat your dinner. Then I’ll walk you to your room so you can rest. Some sleep will do you good.”

They pull back, with some regret, to smile up at the handmaiden. “What would I do without you?”

“Perish the thought,” she says, winking, and sits beside them as they turn to the tray. She keeps a hand clasped around their knee the entire time, a comfortable weight that fills them with warmth.


	35. "you are very endearing when you are..."

The sound of boots on hardwood floors wakes them from them sleep. As they blink the sleep from their eyes, they register the weight of an arm thrown over their waist, someone’s gentle breath ghosting along the nape of their neck.

The bed dips, and they see Julian sitting there, sans coat and gloves, and in the middle of pulling off his boots. He looks sheepish when he catches them staring, now awake.

“Did I wake you?” Julian asks, his voice pitched low in mindfulness of the slumbering Asra pressed up behind them. “Ah, of course I did. Sorry. I finished with work, so I figured I could stop by…”

They smile at him, rubbing at their eye. “No need to apologize,” they reply, their own voice quiet and sluggish from sleep. “Just get over here. We tried to stay up and wait for you, but…”

“It’s alright. I didn’t expect you to stay up.” Julian removes his other boot, then gets to work on removing his waistcoat. They watch him strip out of it with a private grin.

“How was work?” they ask him eventually.

He gets up to tuck his clothes away in the closet space they made for him. “Exhausting, but good. How was business for you and Asra?”

“Same, really. The usual customers showed up.” They yawn. “Ah, excuse me. Still half-asleep, I guess.”

Julian grins, walking up to the side of their bed and running a knuckle over their cheek. “You are very endearing when you are half-asleep.”

“I agree, but all of us should be  _completely_  asleep,” Asra says, surprising the both of them. They feel him shift against them, his arm pulling them in tighter. “Ilya, come to bed already. Let’s talk more in the morning.”

Julian blinks, taken aback, before chuckling under his breath. It’s dark in the room, but they suspect his cheeks are tinged pink. “Yes, of course.”

He climbs into bed, behind Asra, and stretches an arm over to clasp their hand. They squeeze his hand, feeling him reciprocate the action, before closing their eyes, asleep within seconds.


	36. come light me up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a continuation of the second paid scene in nadia’s book vii: the chariot. don't read if you don't wish to be spoiled!
> 
> and, uh, **warning** for sexual content and light bdsm tones.

“I want to be kept,” they had told Nadia breathlessly, who then smiled and ran a hand up their thigh.

Which led to where they are now, Nadia murmuring to them, voice pitched low, “I only have a few rules. Do you know how to take orders? Will you listen to my every word? If I tell you to beg... will you beg? If you do that for me, I will leave you never wanting for more. Unless you’d like that.”

Hovering over the Countess’ lap, a leg on either side of her, they look down at her. They lick their dry lips, the unconscious action causing Nadia to focus on their mouth. “I... I’d like that very much,” they manage to reply.

A smile plays upon Nadia’s lips. “Is that so?” Her hand, which had been idle on their hip, moves beneath their shirt. They shudder when cool fingertips skitter along their ribs. The fingers stop moving. “Too cold?”

They shake their head. “A little, but...” Their eyes drop to her collarbones. Her gaze is too piercing. “D-Don’t stop. Please.”

“Then you will have to look at me,” Nadia says, to their surprise. “Otherwise I won’t continue.” They flick their eyes back up to hers, which crinkle when she smiles, pleased. “Ah, you  _do_  know how to follow orders, even though I haven’t ordered you yet.”

“That wasn’t an order?” they ask. It had worked like one.

“No.” Her free hand comes up to cup their jaw, much like how she pet the cheetah earlier, at the Red Market. They still remember Nadia raking her nails over their scalp, while saying casually,  _A magnificent creature. How she cranes her head for a touch..._  “When I’ve ordered you to do something, you’ll know.”

The way she says that, like it’s a promise, makes a shiver run down their spine. They bite their lip. They’re taken aback when a thumb presses against their bottom lip shortly after, pulling it free from their teeth.

She smiles wickedly at them. “Allow me.” She leans forward and captures their lip between her teeth, just as they had done. Their knees buckle, and they have to plant their palm against the headboard behind Nadia to stabilize themself.

Their breath catches when she moves back, pulling their lip with her for a moment before letting go. Nadia leans against the headboard, her eyes as piercing as ever. She cocks her head to the side, as if waiting. It looks as if she wants them to make a move now.

“May I...” They have to swallow before continuing. “May I kiss you?”

Nadia’s eyes seem to sparkle at the question. She taps her thumb on their jaw as she contemplates her response. They resist the urge to squirm in her lap. “Hmm...” she says finally, amusement colouring her tone, “yes, you may.”

“Finally,” they groan, before surging forward and kissing her. She huffs out a laugh before kissing back, her hand that’s still up their shirt moving to cup their chest. Her lips are as soft as ever, opening beneath their own. It’s clear who’s in control, though. Nadia guides them with the hand that’s on their jaw, tilting their head to kiss them deeper.

“My apologies for the wait,” Nadia pulls back briefly to say. Instead of responding, they chase after her lips, making her laugh once more. She indulges them with another kiss. “But I wanted you to experience an inkling of the impatience I’d felt last time, when you had gone on about the eels.”

They chuckle at that, even as they attempt to catch their breath. “Really?” they say, amused. “I didn’t think you would hold a grudge over it.”

“I would not say that I held a  _grudge_. I was miffed, is all,” Nadia says, before a smile curls along her mouth. “I suppose it’s fortuitous that there are no eels in our vicinity. Now you do not have the ability to tease me like that again.”

They can’t resist such a challenge. “That reminds me, actually.” Adopting a concerned look, they peer over the edge of the bed. “Our tea is probably getting cold...” Nadia scoffs, taken aback by their cheek. They have to bite back a laugh as they straighten themselves up.

They aren’t laughing when the fingers cupping their chest move and tweak their nipple. They hiss through clenched teeth, eyes slipping closed at the sharp pinprick of pain. Yet the pain is followed closely by pleasure.

“Just for that,” Nadia says, her words thick with disapproval, “I think I will focus on my pleasure first, before I allow you your own.”

They inhale sharply as she leans up to nip the column of their throat with her teeth. “However, if you are willing to apologize for your behaviour, I might be more merciful on you tonight.”

“I-I’m sorry,” they gasp out, though they aren’t quite sure if they meant it. Not when her reprimand had caused heat to pool between their thighs.

They can feel the curve of Nadia’s mouth as she smiles against their neck. Does she know the affect she had on them? “Oh, you’ll have to do better than that, my dear. Use that mouth of yours to convince me in another way, perhaps.”

Their brows jump up in surprise. Licking their lips, they move their hand so it’s cupping the Countess’ knee, covered by her skirts. “Nadia, may I...?” they begin, before trailing off. Their cheeks burn. The eagerness in their tone is embarrassingly obvious.

Nadia says nothing of it. Instead, she presses one last kiss against their racing pulse before pulling away. She leans against the headboard as if settling in for the night, pinning them with a look heavy with want. “By all means. Be my guest.”


	37. "i might have slept with your robe when..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon over on tumblr!

They look up from their work when Asra calls their name. They turn to see the magician walk down the stairs, his brows raised. He’s clutching a robe in one hand. They freeze.

“Why did I find my robe in your room?” Asra asks, with an amused curl to his mouth. “I don’t remember it being there when I left last week.”

“Ah, that! Well, you see…” they laugh nervously, heat climbing up their throat. “The reason for that is, er…”

Asra cocks his head. His smile grows wider. “The reason is…?” he prompts.

It’s impossible to lie to Asra; he always sees through them. They sigh. “I might have slept with your robe when you were gone.”

They expect him to laugh, to tease them. They’re prepared for it. His features soften instead. He looks down at the robe, rubbing the material between his fingers. “You miss me when I’m gone, don’t you?”

They blink. “Of— of course,” they stammer. “You’re my master.” It isn’t what they want to say, not really, but the right words are caught in their throat.

Asra’s face pinches, in pain or something else, before smoothing out. “What do you want for dinner?” he asks, as if the conversation before never happened, and the subject is dropped.

When they enter their bedroom that night, the robe is where they had left it that morning, draped over a chair.


	38. homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in response to an ask meme/prompt sent in by former-lushemployee-asra! this features my apprentice and somewhat self-insert, sandhya, just fyi.
> 
>  **edit:** i've made a separate collection for asra/sandhya fic. [check it out!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12711840/chapters/28990029)

Asra opens the shop door, pocketing his key afterwards, and removes his hat. He finds the shop as he had left it weeks prior.

The first floor is as immaculate as ever; counters and shelves polished until they are gleaming under the candlelight, corners devoid of cobwebs (no doubt removed using a spell, as opposed to the traditional method), and various ingredients neatly displayed within the confines of glass doors and jars, all free of fingerprints. Signs warning customers not to open or touch anything without supervision are written in neat, even handwriting, placed in front of more potentially dangerous items.

A smile lifts the corners of Asra’s lips. It’s obvious Sandhya has been cleaning the shop, almost every day, since he’s been gone. Not that this is surprising; even when Asra is home, she’s wiping surfaces and organizing items.

His apprentice, however, is nowhere to be found.

He walks to the backroom, pulling back the curtains, but does not find her bent over the table, studying a deck of cards or peering into the crystal ball. Everything is in its place, undisturbed. Asra moves on.

He walks up the stairs, the wood creaking under his weight, to make his way to the living space he shares with Sandhya. The sight before him does not surprise him.

From the top of the stairs, he can see everything. Day old dishes are piled high in the sink, as well as scattered over the counters. The bookshelves are as cluttered as ever, countless tomes discarded across them, as well as a few tea cups. The items he’s procured from his travels are cast about the living space as well, some lying discarded, forgotten, on the floor. Asra pokes at one near him with his foot, smiling to himself. Sandhya has been examining them again, no doubt.

He looks past the mess and instead focuses on the bed in the corner, where a lump of sheets and blankets is stirring. Empty tea cups are lined along the floor near the bed, nearby a familiar book of fairy tales, left open.

An auburn-haired head pokes out from the covers, squinting in his direction. “Asra?” croaks his apprentice. “That you?”

The magician chuckles as he walks over to her, unwinding the shawl around his neck as he does. “I should hope so,” he says.

Asra dodges the cups to sit on the edge of the bed. He runs a hand through Sandhya’s hair, tucking errant strands behind her ear. She blinks up at him, disoriented, before she smiles. The haze of sleep clears from her eyes.

“Welcome home,” she says, and he is.


	39. ten ways to say i love you: #9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's this? i'm actually updating this drabble series? a christmas miracle, truly.
> 
> anywhomst, this was requested by anon.

**9\. Over a nervous smile, biting back the just-this-side-of-desperate hope they’ll say it back.**

“I love you,” they say, the words coming out like a relieved breath would. Their eyes wildly rove Asra’s features for any telltale twitch that would reveal his reaction to their confession. It’s difficult to know how Asra feels, when he doesn’t want them to.

But they needn’t have been so vigilant. Asra’s eyes widen once the words register, staring at them as if he has never seen them before. He blinks at them, his lashes fanning rapidly.

“Asra?” they prompt, when he remains silent for longer than they’d like. They attempt to smile, but the corners of their lips refuse to lift upwards. “Did you… did you hear me?”

He doesn’t answer them with words. He eliminates the distance between them, a shaking hand cupping their cheek as he searches their eyes, as if to find something within them. “You love me,” he whispers to himself, astonished. He begins to smile, wide and beautiful.

They tremble as his free hand comes up to cup his other cheek. Now he’s cradling their face, so softly that the touch feels reverent. “You love me,” Asra repeats, louder.

Just as their hand encircles his wrist, Asra sweeps them into a kiss. It steals their breath, consumes them; when Asra pulls back, they’re clutching both his wrists and panting.

“Say it again,” Asra begs, his eyes shining with tears.

They blink at him, their heart swelling with an emotion so large it threatens to overwhelm them. “ _I love you_ ,” they say, stronger this time.

Asra closes his eyes. “I love you too,” he manages to say. “How could I not? I’ve loved you for so long, so quiet…” His words become a sob that makes his shoulders shake.

Now it’s them to kisses him, and they keep kissing him, breaking it only to gasp out another, “I love you,” before meeting his lips once more.


	40. breathtaking kiss (3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon A Long Time Ago.

It’s hard to wrap their head around their relationship with Nadia sometimes. Just a week ago, they were living in their home, their life predictable for the most part, and the Countess a woman they thought about only vaguely.

Now, they are lying in the Countess’ opulent bed, living in her palace, with her form hovering above them as they kiss. After years of knowing her merely by name, they have become familiar with her mouth, her touch,  _her_.

But they are unable to think on this, or even think at all, once Nadia licks into their mouth, her hand clasped around their neck like a brand. They arch into her, just as she curves into them, their bodies a long, warm line. All they can do is hold on and kiss back.

Even after she moves away, their eyes remain closed. They try to process the situation. To process the strange and sudden turn their life has taken.

Nadia says their name, a rare fondness in her tone. “Are you quite alright?” she teases. Her thumb brushes pleasantly over their cheek.

Their eyes flutter open, and when they see Nadia smiling down at them, they find themselves overcome with affection.

“Yes,” they say, reaching up and tucking a purple strand of hair behind her ear. Their hand lingers, and their heart threatens to skip a beat when Nadia leans into the touch. “More than alright, actually.”

Nadia grins, and it takes no effort at all for them to smile back.


	41. you give me feelings that i adore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon!
> 
> ignoring old asks for the moment bc i love nasmira... so much.

“There are servants who can do this for me,” Nasmira says over her shoulder. “You needn’t trouble yourself.”

“Don’t move,” is their response. The words might seem commanding, but the effect is undercut by their soft, fond tone. “The braid will come out sloppy otherwise.”

Nasmira giggles, but listens to them, straightening up and allowing them to resume braiding her hair.

It had been a bit overwhelming at first, the sheer  _volume_  of her hair, but they quickly got used to handling it. It’s taking quite some time, but the repetitive nature has become peaceful. Calming. Much like how they feel whenever they’re in Nasmira’s presence.

Nasmira hums under her breath as they reach the end, twisting the locks skillfully, and they lose themself in her musical voice. They’re a bit disappointed when they’re finished, removing the ribbon from their wrist and tying her hair off, but forget all about it when Nasmira beams at them in the mirror.

“Oh, I love it!” she says, running a hand over the braid. She turns in her seat to properly look at them, taking their hand in hers and kissing every individual digit. “Thank you, my love.”

“It was nothing.” They smile down at her, their chest feeling as if it may burst from the emotions that fill it. “For you, I would do anything.”


	42. ten ways to say i love you: #6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon!

**6\. Wrapped up in a question. How’s your day been, have you eaten, you know you can tell me anything, right?  
** **You know you can tell them anything. Right?**

The magician enters their shop with a brisk, “It’s me.” Asra removes his shoes, bare feet quiet against hardwood floor, and unwinds the scarf around his neck. His movement is hurried, just a touch frantic. “How are you doing? Did you eat well? Anything happen while I was away?”

They smile at his many inquiries, shaking their head at the magician. “I’m alright. Nothing happened; it was business as usual.”

Asra comes to stand in front of them, his features drawn into concern, and stares into their eyes. They have the strange feeling that he’s searching them for something.

Whatever he was looking for must not be there, for his shoulders drop. He heaves a heavy sigh, scrubbing a hand over his chin. “Right,” he murmurs. “Of course you were fine on your own. I was worried for no reason...”

They understand his concern. It hasn’t been too long since they recovered from their frail state, after all. Now they can walk, eat, move— all without Asra needing to be by their side, always willing to help.

That doesn’t stop him from hovering, though. It had taken constant reassurance from them for Asra to leave for an important trip, and even then he checked in on them when he could.

They reach out and rest a hand on his cheek. Asra looks up at them, surprised. “Thank you. For worrying,” they say.

Asra’s clouded expression clears, and he smiles at them. It’s wobbly at the corners, but it’s genuine. He covers their hand with his own.

For a quiet moment, the two of them stand there, with nothing more left to say.


	43. three sentence fic: soulmates au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon!

They trace the loops and curves that stretch along their arm, before looking up at him. “Will you teach me how to read it?”

Asra thinks to the words clustered on the column of his neck, hidden by the gold choker he never takes off, not in front of them; words they had spoken to him once; words they may never recall again, “Yes, if you want me to.”


	44. kitchen nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon!

“Are you sure this is coming out right?” they ask, watching the swordfish sizzle on the stove worriedly. “I feel like I might have fudged something up…”

“Oh, there’s no need for you to worry!” Nasmira insists, resting a hand on their arm. “This is exactly how our cooks make it. Well… granted I never made it  _myself_ , but I would watch them while they prepared it all the time. It will come out  _delicious._  Even if it doesn’t, we can always try again, and none will be the wiser.”

“Right. Of course,” they say, more to themself than to Nasmira. They need the reassurance. “You’re right. If it isn’t good enough to serve to Nadia, we’ll just make it again, and she wouldn’t even have to know.”

“That’s the spirit!” Nasmira says, smiling widely their way.

Her positivity is infectious, and despite their many reservations about whether this surprise for Nadia will bear fruit, they smile back at her anyway.

Which is right when the swordfish catches fire.


	45. "you smell really nice." (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon!
> 
> also, for those wondering, meri jaan means my heart/life in hindi.

They awaken the moment they feel the arms wound around them pull back, the bed shifting beneath them as Nasmira goes to leave.

They understand that Nasmira’s position as a liaison is important, one that results in her spending quite some time away from them. Despite this, they find themselves turning around to nuzzle their face into the crook of her neck.

“ _Mmm_ , you smell really nice,” they murmur, as if they have all the time in the world together.

Nasmira’s chest vibrates with her laugh. “Thank you, but I’m afraid I need to get up now.”

They whine, pouting against her skin so she knows just how heartbroken they are by the reminder. “Do you have to go  _already_?”

“I must, meri jaan,” she says apologetically. “I don’t want to leave you, but my work...”

They shake their head, sighing deeply. The cloud of fatigue lifts, and they realize how unfair they’re being to her. “No, don’t apologize. You’re not at fault for anything. I’ll miss you, is all.”

Nasmira shifts, and they feel her petal soft lips press against their brow. “I will think about you every moment we’re apart,” she says.

“And I you.” They draw back to take in her features, soft from sleep, before leaning in to kiss her goodbye. She sighs into their mouth, a hand coming up to curve around the back of their neck.

It ends too soon for their liking, but they know they mustn’t keep Nasmira here any longer. But when they go to move away from her, she tightens her grip around their waist. “Nasmira?”

Her words come out the slightest bit flustered. “Perhaps we could... stay like this for a little while longer? I’ll hurry when getting ready to make up for it.”

A smile blossoms along their lips. “Of course,” they say, relaxing in her embrace. “You don’t even need to ask.”


	46. "if you steal the blankets, i am going to..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon!

“If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you,” you warn Julian, though the threat is undercut when you yawn midway through delivering it.

Julian chuckles as he removes his boots, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Is that so? Then I’ll be extra careful during the night.”

“I mean it.” You poke his spine with a foot. “You  _always_  hog them, and I’m done being nice about it.”

He sets his boots to the side, then turns and crawls into bed. “Do I really steal them?”

“I wouldn’t mention it if you didn’t,” you say, watching as he gets under the aforementioned covers.

Julian makes a thoughtful noise, then folds an arm around you. “Then perhaps you should sleep closer to me from now on,” he suggests, a slow smile appearing on his lips. “You know. So we can share the blankets.”

You laugh, shaking your head even as you shift closer to him. “Oh?  _Just_  because of that, huh?”

He buries his face in your neck, his wayward curls managing to invade your nostrils. “Of course. You believe I have ulterior motives?” he mumbles into your skin. “I’m offended.”

You place your hand on his, over your stomach. Another yawn escapes you. “Then I apologize… I meant no offense…”

Julian’s response is an intelligent, “Mmm…” as the both of you slip into deep sleep, quite literally wrapped up in one another.

He doesn’t steal the blankets from you that night, thanks to his ingenuity, nor does he any of the nights after.


	47. "i think i love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon!

They’re in the gardens. Nasmira is showing them the new flowers that have bloomed, and they’re appreciating the bold colour, the soft petals. They bend down to smell one, smiling in delight at its fragrance, when Nasmira sighs, “I think I love you.”

The words don’t register at first. They blink down at the flower, before they straighten up to look at Nasmira. Their eyes are wide in shock. “I… Sorry, what was that?”

Nasmira appears taken aback herself. Then she lets loose a breath and smiles widely. Her teeth shine like precious pearls. “No, not think,” she amends. She steps closer, reaching out. Her palms glide down their arms until she reaches their hands; she intertwines their fingers. “I _know_  I love you.”

Their mouth opens and closes. “You… you love me?” Nasmira nods, and they laugh, from shock more than anything else.

“I do, truly. You don’t need to say it back,” she adds, sounding more nervous than they’ve ever heard her. “I don’t mind if you need more time. But I hope you can—” She’s cut off, by them leaning forward and capturing her mouth with theirs.

When the two of them break away, Nasmira’s eyes are sparkling. They grin at her. “I don’t need time,” they say. “I was just surprised that you said it. That you felt the same way.”

Nasmira’s cheeks dimple. “That I felt the same way?”

“Yes.” They frame her face with their hands. “I love you, too. Of  _course_  I do.”

Nasmira beams at them, her arms coming up to wrap around their waist, and they press their foreheads together. They stay like that, wrapped up in each other, for some time.


End file.
